SCRATCHNAIL'S REDEMPTION
by Simpering
Summary: Scratchnail’s back, and without master or home, is ready to gain his revenge on Fritti Tailchaser. This bitter monster is out after Hushpad-- but can he keep his conscience in check? Takes place after the Song.
1. pain

Scratchnail's Redemption-

Once a powerful chieftain of the Clawguard, Scratchnail's final mistake caused the destruction of his mind, his home, and his master—Grizraz Hearteater. The same rockfall that saved Tailchaser was also that which sheltered the dark beast from the Mound's final collapse. Awake, alive, and bitterly grieving for the life he'd lost, Scratchnail sets off to gain his final revenge on Fritti in the same place that the yellow tomcat searched for happiness-- Hushpad.

**A short introduction to the main character of this story:**

**(also, disclaimer—all of these cats – yes, I consider the Clawguard to be cats, as well as the Toothguard- are not mine. They all belong strictly to Tad Williams. Also, this story can operate independently of Tailchaser's Song, so have no fear to read!)**

Name: Scratchnail of the Clawguard

Allegiance: the Clawguard, fool…

Age: Converted to human years, I'd say thirty-five or so.

Appearance: quoted from the book; "Different, not the way the Folk were meant to look. Their faces were snakelike, flat brows and wide cheekbones, and their ears lay well back on their skulls. Fierce yellow eyes stared from these faces, huge and deep-set, burning with unsettling fire. Their muscular bodies were knotted, low-slung and powerful, terminating in wide, spatulate paws with red talons." Also somewhere it notes Scratchnail in particular is coal-dust black, with pale, sickly spots on his underbelly. If you're REALLY interested and are willing to deal with my amateur drawing:

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**I drew that lol. I'm sadly proud of it xDD**

**You'll have to replace the (d0ts) with actual periods if you're SO intrigued.**

Personality: As far as we know, vicious, bloodthirsty, gruff… and also somewhat intuitive. After all, he's very observant—and he knew there was something about Fritti from the moment he arrived. VERY vicious. Did I say vicious? Quite an angry kitty.

Brief history: Scratchnail was a chieftain of the Clawguard, which was a group of creations that this Satan-Cat made. There's also the Toothguard, which are hairless with big noses, and the Boneguard, which are pretty creepy and I don't want to think about. Scratchnail was doing fine, rounding up prisoners, until he brought in this Tailchaser guy and his friends. Tailchaser escaped the mound and Scratchnail got bashed for it and banished along with his Toothguard friend Skinwretch. Eventually Tailchaser returned and Scratchnail battled him, the fight being drawn short when a rockslide took him away.

**HEY! We're done with the intro! Ready for my random rant on disclaimers and stuff?**

**Good morning, my name is Simpy, and this is my fanfic based on Tailchaser's Song, a story by Tad Williams. It reminds me of Warriors, another book series I read and write about, but I actually like it a little better—will Scratchnail succeed in his revenge? Please read and review, and remember—though Scratchnail and all allusions to Tad's story are his, this story itself is mine, and I will flog you to death and send the Boneguard after you if you steal. Thanks!**

_Chapter One—Pain._

_Pain._ It swirled around him, flooded his world with agony. _Pain_. A thrumming growl, a scream, began to hum in his throat, until finally he stirred where he lay and let it escape. It was a yowl of death, of flame, and still though he felt like the air in his lungs was his dying breath…a cry of hatred.

He was a creature of hatred, after all—the Fat One hadn't made him to be sweet and cuddly, a creation made merely to find joy and one's self. No, Scratchnail, like all of his type, had been formed of pain—borne of pain—and therefore lived in pain. The Clawguard had been loosely based off of the Folk, it was true, but in the end…

They were nothing alike. _Sun-rats, curse them, curse them all_… Scratchnail snarled to himself even as he lay, body humming with agony, _STARFACE…_

Memories began flooding back, and it was only typical that the first face to swim into his head was the little orange tomcat that in the last few days had become his mortal enemy. Tailchaser…

Abruptly it all returned to him, and with it the full terror of the last few days that he'd experienced. Clawguards were strong—Clawguards were not made to feel fear—but the feeling of his own mind's disintegration had not been a pleasant one. From the moment he'd lost his status, the lifetime he'd worked for, all because of a little ginger cat with a star on his forehead…

Only because of Skinwretch, the Toothguard who had been punished equally, had he survived at all. He'd seen Tailchaser flitting in every shadow, seen those curious eyes glinting in those of every cat he'd seen. Though Skinwretch had been once Scratchnail's greatest rival, he'd become the crutch he leaned on, the thing that kept him barely sane…

Perhaps it would have gone on forever. Perhaps always would Fritti's face have haunted the Clawguard's mind, had the mound not begun to tremble and Hearteater destroyed. That much had not mattered to Scratchnail—nothing had mattered, nothing but destroying Tailchaser's friends, and indeed he'd been ripping away the feathery limbs of a fluffy kitten when the real tomcat had showed up.

It had been a battle unlike any Scratchnail had experienced before, a battle where he felt his fur torn and his blood spilling—and at last, something had broken within his mind, and he'd seen the shadow-Tailchaser as who he really was… the real one.

It would have ended there, had the falling walls of the mound not crumpled before them, pushed him in an avalanche of rock and stone into the foaming waters of the black river…

And there, he supposed, he must have died. _Must have. I can't have survived a fall into the Flume. I can't have survived when all the others of my kind were crushed—they and the Fat One. But if I was dead, surely there would not be this much pain?_

Pain?

Pain as if an avalanche of rock had fallen on him and he'd been lacerated by the furious claws of a little sun-rat, pain as if he'd sunk battered through the greasy depths of the river and been churned beneath the rapids of the waterfall. Pain as if he was, even now, trapped beneath rubble, alive only because of the way the stones had fallen…

Scratchnail threw back his head and roared, a sound so powerful the low ceiling above him trembled with the force of it. He roared, and roared again, and those wide yellow eyes blazed with his hatred. "TAILCHASER!" he cried to the sky, slamming his high, wide brow against the stony ground with the weight of his pain, "TAAAAAILCHASERRR!"

"How many times have I had to tell you, you fool Clawguard-- Tailchaser ISN'T HERE!"

The voice, shocking as it was to hear, was terribly familiar. "SKINWRETCH?" the liver-spotted beast born of the earth yowled, turning his head. The simple action caused him so much agony he turned and immediately vomited, to which the trapped Toothguard made sounds of utter disgust.

Sputtering, the massive beast finally set his fierce eyes on the bald creature, skinny, with a mass of scar tissue at the nose where once his companion's senses had been so strong. The Toothguard were naturally blind, and it was only their disklike ears and powerful nostrils that allowed them to live the way they did… if they were stronger, it would be they who had to go above ground and face the sunlight, for it did not burn their eyes. Seeing the bald, wormlike feline's wounds the black tom winced automatically—it seemed hard to remember that it was only a temporary measure. It was a temporary punishment, for like all of their type, it would soon heal and regenerate.

If they'd truly wished to punish Skinwretch, they would have just killed him. Or let him go to the Boneguard. Scratchnail thought he'd rather like death better.

"What are YOU doing here?!" Scratchnail came close to screaming.

It had visible effect on the strange beast, whose wide, batlike ears immediately drooped and whose face twisted into a blind, savage mask. "You mean to say, friend, why is it we are alive when the rest of our two races are completely extinct?"

"NO!" Scratchnail growled, "I mean to say, friend, what are you DOING here? I was knocked off the cliff by the rockslide."

The disgust that colored the wrinkled face made the beast scowl, wincing back a little at the expression. "Ah." It was hopelessly bitter. "That is my own doing, friend—I wished for death. My nose… was done as punishment, for I delivered the bad news. I was but the messenger… what, do you think, would have happened, if they'd known this whole… mess… was my fault?"

"What do you mean, Skinwretch?" the dark feline growled, slowly beginning to move, achingly, in the small space he had. "What did you do?"

"You remember, friend, when we wandered the tunnels, that young Clawguard Tunnelwalker offered to guide us?"

"I do, worm. What's your point?"

"He told me he was on a mission—a mission, for our Master!—and I believed him, Scratchnail. Please, say you will not hate me once I've told you… I can hardly live with myself as it is…"

Showing his teeth impatiently, Scratchnail flicked his dappled tail for him to go on. Though the Toothguard surely could not see his action, he understood the charged frustration in the air and continued hurriedly. "I should have listened to you, friend… he was Tailchaser, just like you cried when he first came, and I told him where the prisoners were. I was happy… I thought I was serving my Master! And then I found out the truth… and I threw myself into the river. Better the waters than what the Boneguard would have for me…"

A long silence passed, charged with tension, as Scratchnail bristled at the orange worm's name, fighting with his fury at what the naked cat had let happen and the bond the two shared, much as the dark, pantherlike being hated to admit it.

They did not say anything for some time, and meanwhile, mechanically, the giant stretched, worked through every screaming muscle on his powerful frame until finally, exhausted, he stood. Finally he could turn and fully look at the Toothguard, who was huddled in one corner, unable to see and scent his way out of the crack only feet away.

_I could leave him now. I could leave this traitor here, and he would die here. But he's not exactly a traitor, and I was fooled by the same—if I should be angry at anyone, it should be that accursed me'mere Tailchaser…_

Scratchnail shook his pelt, caked with the dark flakes of blood, and bared his teeth with the strength of his hatred. "Come then, Skinwretch," the creature growled, lashing his tail and ignoring the pain it brought him. He would heal quickly—he always did. Skinwretch would as well, and then he might be very useful. The bald creature looked up, turning sightless eyes on the massive black creature in unfeeling hope.

"Scratchnail…!"

The Clawguard cut him off with a snarl. "Come, Skinwretch. We are going to destroy… Tailchaser… and we are going to take everything away from him that he's taken away from me. From us. You have lost your nose and honor, I have lost my position and mind—and both of us have lost everything we have ever known."

A passion flooded into the wrinkled creature and he jumped up, sensitive ears raising into the air like billowing sails. "Revenge? How?"

"We'll figure that out once we reach the surface—yes, you rotten sack of bones, the surface. Never been above ground before?" his mockery was sour. "I'm not leaving you here, not after all that me'mere has done to us. We survived for a reason."

The Toothguard bared his teeth in a smile, abruptly. "Agreed. But I, ah, my nose…"

With a curt nod, Scratchnail growled reluctantly, "I will watch over you, as you watched over me, when my mind was unsound and you knew the earth—at least, until you have recovered."

The two stared at one another, one sightless, one burningly fierce, before softly, together, they both meowed, "Our Master's honor will be avenged…"

The air outside the crack the two slipped soundlessly through was sweet compared to the bitter tang within, but not nearly as sweet as blood. Blood, red as the claws that clicked on the stone bed as Scratchnail moved…

**Hey, read and review, please! Half my muse comes from motivation, and I get SO much more motivated if people comment! I hope someone besides me has read the book, and if not, at least read some Warriors to compare it to—I absolutely love Grizraz's creatures, I think they're fantastic. They're also a bit, ah, angry at the moment… poor Fritti. ANYWAY. Yeah. I'll keep writing soon!**


	2. light

**Disclaimer: I do not own Scratchnail or Skinwretch. I do not own Tailchaser or any of the other characters mention. If/When a character that IS mine appears, I will STATE so. Meanwhile, the story and the plot and all that dandy crap is MINE. XD enjoy, those few people in the world that have read Tailchaser's Song and habitually check up on the fanfiction section for it lolol… anyway. Please, if there IS such a random crazy person, a review would be appreciated xD thanks.**

**Chapter Two- **light.

The Scalding Flume was muffled by the walls and heaps of crumbled stone around them—it was pure chance that neither of them had been crushed, and that the rock had fallen in such a way as to shelter them from the thousands of tons of earth crumbled above them. The underground waterfall was curiously quiet, and when Scratchnail finally pulled his naked companion from the rubble, it became obvious why.

The river itself had been filled with the talus the collapse had brought down, creating a land-dam that had made the depths overflow. There was now a black, gleaming underground lake; and the waterfall itself had been crushed by a massive pillar of granite. The water from the spring now plunged strangely from the sides, trickling down through hundreds of feet of broken rock into the massive stretch of water.

It must have been the Claw's hiss of dismay that alerted the blind beast, or perhaps it was that the massive, trembling vibrations in the earth were gone. "What has happened?" Skinwretch shrieked, stumbling forward with his disklike ears fanning out from his head, "What has happened to our home, Scratchnail?"

The guttural snarl that tore loose from the black beast's mouth made the Toothguard flinch. "Collapsed," he forced out through gritted teeth, "Collapsed and broken. We were right when we said we were the only ones left." The creature turned his blunt muzzle, shrewd eyes crossing each and every collapsed tunnel around the inky waters. "All the tunnels are gone, Skinwretch!"

"Then how will we get out?" the bald, wrinkled creature exclaimed in dismay, extending one grossly distorted paw in entreaty to his fierce companion, "We may have gotten out of the rockslide, but we have no chance of escaping the Mound when there are no tunnels to the surface and no slaves to dig any!"

A short time passed before a hiss colored the air and Scratchnail turned his blunt head. Screeching noises that his blood-red claws made as they scraped the slate earth made the Toothguard's ears flatten in anger. "Then we shall look," the Claw snapped, "And if there are no tunnels, we will DIG some ourselves! We have a destiny, blind worm, and nothing—earth or stone—will stop us."

Skinwretch had nothing to say to that, but when the black animal padded away, the eelike creature slid after it, his thin, grossly hairless body shivering as those great ears oriented on his companion. Scratchnail might be gruff and vicious, but in his own corrupted way he had honor—and he knew that the only reason he was alive now was because of the Toothguard, a creature he and his kind had scorned and mocked until now. For all his strength, the former-chieftain would have died after the Hearteater had punished him, had it not been for the wrinkled tomcat who found him by the Flume.

Scratchnail would not forget that. Not until he'd repaid the blind, mewling creature—he hoped getting the thing out of here would be enough. And then, in turn, the Tooth would help him—Tooth and Claw, they would take down the sun-rat who'd taken it all away. He would hurt after they were done, and he would beg for death…

The two moved in silence for a time, the pantherlike being sniffing at the entrances to ruined tunnels, occasionally turning to nose the stumbling Toothguard across stretches of water. After a time, Skinwretch began to sing, and Scratchnail joined along. Strangely, it seemed still hopeful even after their whole world had been shattered, destroyed—it seemed hopeful still to sing of the sun's fall, and the creatures of the earth walking upon the surface. Even though they were the only two left.

With luck, they would be on the surface soon as well…

Scratchnail wished, more than many things, that Skinwretch's phenomenal nose was working. He would be able to scent the place closest to the surface by the scent of the air on the other side, or know which tunnel was blocked the least by the currents that whispered through it. As it was, the blind animal was working by sound, and it was only he—Scratchnail of the Clawguard—who had to try and use his nose and eyes to see.

A spur tunnel twisted off to the side, and Scratchnail could hardly believe his luck. He stopped, stunned, and Skinwretch ran into him. "Ow!"

"Shut up, vermin. I think I found a way out. You don't have to dig after all, lucky you…"  
"You would have been digging just as much, getting those pretty red claws all mucked up," the Toothguard reminded him, shaking his leathery head. "Where is it?"

Slowly, deep in his throat, the Clawguard laughed. "It's the old exit tunnel. The FIRST one, before the mound grew. It's the tunnel that the little worm escaped out of in the first place, and the one he led the Firsthome vermin through as well—of course it's still intact." The animal threw back his head and laughed, a high, screeching sound in painful, rusty counterpoint to that harsh, guttural voice.

Slowly, a fanged smile appeared on his companion's face. "Well then," he said softly, "Let us be going, then!"

"Wait," Scratchnail cautioned, moving his tail before the hairless tomcat before the animal could brush past, "Above the ground, there are two-times; when the Eye is open, and when the Eye is closed. In daylight I cannot walk, worm."

"And because of your infirmities I am expected to wait?" Skinwretch demanded, whipping around to bear teeth at the larger animal, "I have been waiting in that hole with your accursed vomit for too long already, and my stomach cries for blood, friend!"

"I wait for you, crippled worm, do I not?" Scratchnail growled, "Stumbling along. My eyes cannot face the light, for I am a creature of darkness—if you wish for me to guide you, we must run by the same. If your belly hungers, why, I imagine the carcasses of slaves are plenty beneath the rock."

"Very well then," the Toothguard hissed, curling that bony tail around his leathery toes, "We will wait until this closed-eye-time, and then we will walk the surface. Care to dine with me, Scratchnail?"

Yes, they were cruel—they snapped at one another and spoke of cruel insults, but in the end, the two were friends. They'd stuck together all through the weeks of punishment, healing, caring for one another—and they were not about to stop now. There was the body of a young fela, hardly out of kittenhood, crushed in the next tunnel over—her flesh was a fine meal for the Clawguard, and then the hairless creature went through and meticulously picked through the bones, wishing they still burned hot with life…

**Creepy silence dot dot dot… wow creepy… sorry about that…**

*******

The fresh air was as jolting to the Toothguard as was the last few dying rays of the sun to the Claw when they poked their two heads; black and mottled pink, from the mouth of the gaping burrow. "Ahhhh," Skinwretch heard his companion say, a sound of pain, and his wide ears picked up the sounds of the dark creature withdrawing into himself. "The eye is closing now… but how it burns…"

"The air is cold," the creature shivered, "So cold…" Compared to the oppressive heat from within the earth, the outside world was a glacier—it was spring-verging-on-summer, but the furless skin was now no longer merely a feature of disgust—it was a problem.

"Didn't think your naked hide could last long out here," Scratchnail taunted, shielding his fierce, burning yellow eyes with a paw. His stomach, mottled with sickly, pale dots, slid along the bottom of the burrow as he slid out, looking around. "Hey, if those big flimsy ears pick up anyone watching, let me know. I do not want our presence about just yet."

"My big flimsy ears pick up nothing but the ugly sound of your voice," Skinwretch snapped as he too slunk from the mouth of the burrow, shivering. He edged slightly closer to the warm pelt of Scratchnail, and the Clawguard scooted away. "Keep your distance, worm," the black beast snapped, eyes glittering with impotent fury. "If you had a nose, we could sniff out Starface's scent—now what can we do?"

"We'll have to ask for information," Skinwretch pointed out, "Surely, if Tailchaser is as famous as you make him seem, there will be creatures here in the forest who know of him?"

"Very good," Scratchnail admitted grudgingly, "Yet they will not wish to speak—we hardly seem innocent; a giant, blind rat and a red-clawed monster searching for the _me'mere_ to destroy our home."

"All the better, then!" the Tooth pointed out, turning his eyes, sealed shut, onto his companion. "Let the giant, blind rat and the red-clawed monster seek for information—and let it be known we shall kill any that get in our way. I have heard the pleading of the slaves in the pit, and smelled their terror of us—we should have no problem."

"A meal would not be bad, either," Scratchnail agreed, a smile etching onto his face. "You know, I could get to like you, with ideas like that. Blind worm."

"Thank you!"

The light, above all, was the most disorienting—even at night, the pricks of starry flame above them were misleading, disorienting—even the blind creature seemed to feel them, between his shivering, as silently they slid through the forest.

The trees were tall peaks of shadow that the dark tomcat slid between and through, speckled belly sliding against the cold earth. At his side slipped a thin, bony figure, wrinkled and formed of skin, blind eyes strange counterpoint to the mass of healing tissue where the 'cat' should have carried his nose. Though one was pale and the other shadow, they both stepped with utter silence—and in their wake the birds ceased to chirp, the insects grew quiet.

No creature, be they of the Folk or not, wanted to be caught by the two monsters. Hence the chase that they entered once Scratchnail's huge, flickering eyes picked out the shape of the tomcat before he broke into a run, hence the beating of the paws against the ground as Skinwretch closed in on the sound of the sun-rat's terrified gasps of breath. Hence the screams that tore loose from the tabby's throat as crimson talons brought him down as easily as a cat might catch a beetle and the tom looked up, eyes dilated in terror, at the two animals looming over him.

"Tailchaser." Skinwretch said softly. "You know him."

The cat gibbered in terror, wiggling and sobbing. "No! No I don't!" Scratchnail shoved his blunt muzzle into the creature's face, yellow teeth bared in a thousand spikes of cold fury. "TAILCHASER! TELL ME WHERE HE IS!" he roared, the force of his voice sending fur flying back from his helpless victim.

Sobbing, the cat meowed, "I don't know! I don't know! He parted from his friends two eye-turns back! Don't hurt me! Don't kill me! Please!"

"I care not for your gibbering and pleading, scum," Scratchnail snarled, digging his claws in deeper into the tiny creature. "WHERE DID HE GO?! Tell me, and I may not eat you while still you live!"

"I-I-I-know not!" the little tom cried. "But they say he follows the track of a fela, and that he left his home just to find her…! I know no more, I swear by Tangaloor himself!"

"Very well," Skinwretch said coldly, turning those sealed, grossly distorted eyes on the creature, which shrank back in fear and disgust. "We shall end your life quickly, then. May I, Scratchnail?" his purr was silky, succulent, and the creature quailed between the Clawguard's massive paws.

"Wait!" the cat cried just as the teeth of the bald cat touched his soft throat and he struggled. Skinwretch paused, reculantly, a drop of saliva slithering onto the tomcat's open neck. "Her name," the cat gasped, chest heaving with breath and terror, "is Hushpad. Perhaps someone knows of her—I know not! But he is gone from our forest, and he kept the sun at his shoulder."

"So you DID know where he went," the Toothguard hissed, withdrawing, to which the cat quailed. "You swore by the name of one of the Firstborn, sun-rat. You are a liar and a traitor to your kind, for you have betrayed them and your Lord. We, at least, lived by the word of Hearteater." The pity and disgust in the cat's tone were obvious and the cat grew limp.

"I care not to soil my tongue with the flesh of such as his," Scratchnail said coldly, with boredom, and loosened the cat from his grasp. "Let him live, knowing that it is because of he that his kind's hero shall be slaughtered—let him live, knowing the worm he is." Those fierce yellow eyes bored into the trembling tomcat and speared his soul. "Spread the name of us, worthless scum, and know you are too vile even for monsters such as us to devour. You will spend your days at Hearteater's Throne, for he is the only one who will accept you now."

The tabby did not move, even after they'd turned and slipped away into the darkness, did not move even though they were long gone. He merely sat limp, a slow tear tracking down his face, knowing they were truly right, and the destruction of the surface had begun from his cowardly soul.

**Read? Review? This was a fun chapter to write, sorry they're so bloodthirsty, it's just how monster-cats are. I really love them, lol, especially Skinwretch. He's adorable. Anyway, xD, end of chapter two!**


	3. prophecy

**SCRATCHNAIL'S REDEMPTION:**

**Note this is a very SHORT story, which I will be exceedingly lucky to finish xD I'm good at coming up with random ideas and building characters, but actually following through with stuff is hard for me xD**

Chapter Three—prophecy.

The nights passed with ever-reaching swiftness, the blinding light of day all but forgotten as the two great beasts; tooth and claw; eyes and ears; tracked the print of Fritti Tailchaser. The sunlight after time ceased to burn Scratchnail's yellow eyes, and the cold ceased to chill Skinwretch's nonexistent pelt, though they slept by the golden eye and ran as it closed.

Yet though they became acclimated slowly to the environment around them; though the cold and light ceased to burn the fury born into their hearts never flickered. Scratchnail's harsh yellow eyes did not see the bodies of his prey as the two feasted, did not see the landscape as they traveled—he saw nothing but the mocking star upon the brow of the orange tomcat. The sky mocked him with that mimicry—mocked him, Scratchnail of the Clawguard!

The turf underpaw became soft, and then wet; Skinwretch informed the monster that they'd entered marshland by the stench. Even that terrible wound was beginning to heal, though still that dark scar tissue made the blind animal's face a mess. "Can you smell him?" Scratchnail urged perpetually as they traveled, persistant, one could almost suppose desperate. "Can you smell him?"

"No," Skinwretch always told him, with that same patience the animal had shown when they'd wandered the earth by the flume, blind and maddened, "No, you stupid beast—I can't smell him." Those empty sockets were still chilling, and the flat, sarcastic voice that exited that toothy maw was unsettling. Especially now, where the lunar haze changed the scenery from what had once lain underneath.

"Then how do we know we're going the right way? How do we know the track of the fela passed this marsh, how do we know if the stupid rat was chasing her at all?" Scratchnail tore at the soft ground underpaw with his fury, the thick mud coating those crimson talons with filth. "Hushpad—a typical name for a worthless slave," Scratchnail sneered to himself, "I wonder what the worm sees in her—well, no matter. We will take his joy, and devour it as he has devoured our home!"

The sound of laughter interrupted the Clawguard's pretty speech and he whipped around, that broad, dark brow sharp and furious as he spat with surprise and utter fury. "What?! Who's there?!" the animal shouted, the hiss of his rage serpentine and cold. The laughter did not cease, merely bubbled up even more. "Oh, oh child of Hearteater—you know not what lays before you, only what your own tortured mind has created!" the voice chortled, and Skinwretch flattened his massive ears.

"I smell a toad," the creature said dryly, "A fat one. We should feast, but the morsel is far too tiny." With that Mother Rebum swelled with indignation. The Clawguard made as if to lunge at her, red claws extended, but she plopped deeper into the water where both creatures were loathe to tread.

"To answer your question, angry young furback—" which Skinwretch the hairless one snorted at—"You know the track of the young traveler to pass this way lay here because you too have a destiny—you with the red-blood-stone claws. Your mind is bent on revenge—but it soon will be bent on other things, Tailchaser-of-the-furred-ones least of all." With these words, ringing of prophecy, had only just fell, the goggle-eyed creature vanished beneath the surface of the bog, leaving the two stunned monsters staring after her in surprise.

"Get back here!" was the first thing Scratchnail roared, "Get your warty legs back out here, toad-woman, and tell me what you meant!" He looked like he was about to go wading into the muck to find her but Skinwretch pulled him back. "You take the words of such a creature so seriously? Come, let us continue—perhaps I smell his track after all, yes, though it may be faint. I smell his track… and those of the two-legs, the M'an of the cities."

"Is it there, then, that we may find him and his little mate?" Scratchnail demanded, almost pitifully eager. The chug of laughter seemed to echo for a moment and the dark-haired animal snapped his head around suspiciously before looking back. The bald, thin Toothguard shrugged. "Perhaps," Skinwretch told him, "And perhaps not. It is a start, is it not?"

The marshlands did not last much longer for two creatures of their size; and they crushed the pale green seedlings underpaw; trampling spring beneath their massive footfalls as a wide spread of water came up before them. Skinwretch shuddered as the scent hit his now-flaring nostrils, as if he'd had enough of water to last his whole life. Soft, fluffy cloud-like creatures romped along the hillside, and they were easy to catch, easy to eat.

They both sensed that what they sought lay across the wide stretch of liquid; and this was no problem for the massive beasts, though Skinwretch put up a great fight about it, and indeed when the two emerged from the depths, dripping, the wrinkled skin was shivering desperately. It was a small island—but Skinwretch was now sure he could smell the track of felines, the scent of slaves—a fela and a tom, and Skinwretch new from the instant his paws set foot there that his nemesis had passed close.

A roar of sound met both the massive monsters as charged forth a mastiff, too stupid to piece them out from other cats. He would have been a lovely meal, but both were quite filled from their breakfast on the hill, and they merely swatted him aside with the mockery of their laughter, silenced. Scratchnail's eyes gleamed with excitement as they drew close to the m'an dwelling, hiding in the shadows, the thick cover of night a blanket to hide their twisted, alien shapes.

***

Tailchaser butted heads affectionately with Pouncequick, unable to conceal his purr of surprise and delight. "Nre'fa'o, Pounce! What are you two doing here?" he meowed. He was still a great deal away from Firsthome, though the eye had opened and closed many times since he'd left the m'an dwelling where Hushpad had lain. His warm eyes drifted to those of Firsa Roofshadow, standing dark and quiet by her cheerful companion's side.

"We got worried," Roofshadow told him simply, calmly, in that way that she had—she seemed rather cool to him, which concerned Fritti. "So, did you find her?" The direct question took the ginger tomcat aback, but after a startled sneeze, he looked back up at her and meowed evenly, "Yes, I did. We had a nice visit. I was on my way to rejoin you two." It was not his imagination—the slender she-cat relaxed slightly and brushed whiskers with him in greeting.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Pouncequick asked, eyes filled with that strange peace that he'd seen before. Tailchaser half-expected a playful flick of the tail, but he remembered with a sickening jolt how Scratchnail had maimed the kitten, and he felt that uneasy rush of anger and nausea rush through him. _"You have destroyed me, you little sun-rat…"_

The ginger tomcat shrugged and fell into step with his friends, still purring his pleasure at them having found him. "I did—but not in the way I expected." The words were only slightly uneasy, and he found himself trading a glance with Firsa as she moved along, silent as shade; a glance full of curiosity and hidden things. Fritti wondered abruptly what it would have been like if he'd stayed with the silver she-cat, if he'd spent his life there with Hushpad… well, at least she was happy. At least she was safe.

***

A slender shape woven of silver emerged from the den, paw by shining paw, and pulled herself into the moonlight—a long, soft tail waved gently as she tested the air, whiskers trembling as she inhaled the night. Scratchnail noted with scorn the plumpness to her face, her sides—she was a pet of the m'an. Tailchaser had poor choice—but it did not matter. Because if he was here, he would not be able to stop them from slitting her lovely throat—and if he was here, he'd see _every second of it._

Just like Scratchnail had been forced to endure as his home had crashed down around him… a smile grew on his face as he stepped forward, coalescing out of the darkness with the bony, furless creature at his side. He saw the fela's eyes widen, her mouth open in a soundless cry of utter terror. "Hello, Hushpad," he whispered, trapping her between his paws as easily as a cat might trap a beetle, "Where's your friend?"


	4. uncertainty

**SCRATCHNAIL'S REDEMPTION:**

* * *

**I'm getting there—another chapter. xD these cats are hard to write with—but I like them a lot and I try, it's just difficult to complete a whole chapter. Nevertheless, I attempted yet again, though it's short—I really like Skinwretch, lol. Sorry that they're all still in the same place, I'll get more travel and action and crap in a bit—half of this chapter is in Scratch's little brain. xP thank you ALL for reviewing, I hardly expected it haha.**

**- - - - - - - -((**

**Streakz the Werecat**—heh, I'm trying, lol. You're welcome for the recommendation xD I found the book in an airport lol. And heh, I need those little bits with Fritti in there, I go crazy trying to be Skin&Scratch all the time, and the plot bits are important xD hope I finish.

**Crescent of Night**—wow, hi lol. Tee hee, I know, isn't it sad? I decided if I wanted a Tailchaser fic I'd have to try and write it myself, haha. And –sigh- I know poor Skinny doesn't go sssssss, I started out doing it but got really confused about what to do for like, 'received' where he WOULD hiss… so I just said he 'hisses' and such. xD thanks, really!

**Detective Thief**—ta-hah, that's awesome. Thanks, hope I pulled it off again for this update—my writing style tends to accidentally change, but I keep rereading the book in an attempt to keep it steady. :) hope you keep reading, ha ha! They _are_ dark, glad you like them.

**))- - - - - - - - begin chapter!**

*******

Chapter Four—uncertainty.

The predatory smile and the hot breath in her face made the silver fela recoil, to no avail—she knew with a sinking heart, deeply, instinctively, that there was no escape from this inky monster with the blood-red claws. For a moment her eyes could not adjust, and the wide, frightened eyes of the she-cat could pick up nothing but the little that the streetlamps showed her.

A giant, powerful body pinned her down, but flashes of silvery-pink skin surprised her as well—a surprise filled with a deep, crawling horror. As those wide eyes adjusted and finally the flat yellow gaze of her assailant glittered into view, Hushpad knew all was lost. There was not a line of mercy or hope in the thin, snakelike face of the monster—catching sight, panicked, of the creature's naked companion, her heart sunk even lower. She did not, could not fight the catlike being whose bloodred claws showed no hesitation to plunge through her fur.

So simply she lay, and in her terror found a kind of peace—though pain and fear tried to choke her, saturated her voice, it was no sign of weakness. The monsters expected nothing less. She could see in the massive black animal's maddened face how despicable she was to them—and strangely enough, in what may have been her last moment, she wished only to change their minds. So asked Hushpad, "What is your name?"

Scratchnail was thrown completely off-guard by the question—not only had the she-cat completely _ignored_ his own and dismissed his gloating, but she… well, only idiocy could compensate for such, and yet again the disgusted Clawguard found himself wondering what on earth that fool Starface had seen in the cat. Was he, Scratchnail, a creature deeper than these surface-worms' own little savior?

Nonetheless, for a tiny moment, the massive scarlet talons loosened in surprise, and in that time the young fela had slipped his grasp and shot back towards her M'an dwelling like a silver arrow. _Very well, then. A chase will be more satisfying anyhow. _Some part of his pale-skinned companion must have sensed the escape, because Skinwretch was right on her long ink-dipped tail. His bristling fangs clipped the end of it, and with a squeak Hushpad whipped it out of the way. Then the unexpected—in a liquid movement she whipped around and sliced with her tiny claws a slash across the leathery skin—Skinwretch yelped, and Scratchnail's snarling laughter echoed after the two as soundless, careless, he prowled after them.

The doors were locked and the she-cat had time only to veer before Scratchnail reappeared like liquid shadow before her and trapped her in his massive paws just as easily as before. "We meet again, worm," the Claw purred, a sound filled with broken glass and rust. "I will confess—your little question was _quite_ clever. Perhaps there is more to you than it seems." It became a snarl at the end as he noticed the silver fela was shaking her head.

"No," she was saying, "I just wanted to know. I didn't know you were going to let go of me." Ironic, she was arguing against what might almost have been a compliment from the massive Clawguard—why? To prove her intentions were pure? Scratchnail was a creature of the earth, of the darkness, with claws born red to match the blood that would always coat them.

His lip lifted in a sneer as he breathed down upon her—she visibly recoiled as he growled scornfully, "Well then, surface-rat, I am called Scratchnail. My companion is Skinwretch, he is blind." There, something in her eyes—a flicker of recognition.

Scratchnail pushed his dark face closer to the she-cat so that their whiskers brushed, and she flinched. "But you already know that, don't you?" the spite in his tone singed. "Because my old friend Tailchaser is here, and he's been talking up his adventures like a storm. Now—why don't you tell me where he's hiding, so we can have a little… reunion. Maybe a dinner." With a giant paw Scratchnail experimentally prodded Hushpad, smirking. "What do you think, Skinwretch? Will she feed three?"

The purr from the Toothguard as he sidled around the fela was dangerous, and he turned his empty sockets down towards her with a fang-toothed smile. "Oh, I think so," the hairless creature hissed, wiggling slightly in enthusiasm. Hushpad's wildly fluttering heartbeat resonated in Scratchnail's paw where it lay over her chest, but it brought no burst of adrenaline, no predator's frenzy. No satisfaction whatsoever. Why?

He rather thought it was because Tailchaser had spoiled his taste for slave—that there was no purpose to his life but to eliminate the cat who'd eliminated his home. Tailchaser had not done it for spite, or for justice—he'd done it for his shallow love, who lay now in Scratchail's blood-taloned grasp. And the last thing the orange tom would see would be what he loved torn apart before his gaze, just like Scratchnail.

The thought rather made him pause—had he loved his home, truly? His first response was _no_, even for he, it had been a place choked with terror, with pain. Even he whose body was built to kill, whose heart was formed of shadows, could never love a place such as Hearteater's domain had been. Yet this very thing made it clear that he _could_ love, and the truth was that he'd had nothing to love but his home- and perhaps his master. Could Skinwretch say the same? Likely enough. Scratchnail found he was impatient with his line of thought and returned to concentrating on Hushpad, whose terrified eyes held a spark of defiance.

"Yes, I know you." Her voice trembled with fear, but Scratchnail was surprised to hear none of the disgust or spite he'd expected. "Fritti told me about you both. And I will not tell you where he went." She lifted her shivering chin, waiting for death. Slowly, Scratchnail smiled.

"Oh, Hushpad," the Clawguard said, and he sounded very disappointed. "Very well. Come on, Skinwretch, we're leaving—obviously the little rat's gone and run away before we got here. How's your nose doing?"

"Almost healed," the Toothguard said, touching one wrinkled paw to his wide, flaring nostrils. They were still marked with terrible scars, but it was no longer a mass of nothingness. "I can track him."

Hushpad piped up in her feeble voice, shocked, "You mean you're just going to leave me?" It was obvious she'd expected some kind of maiming, torture, if not death. Scratchnail turned his head back and suddenly smiled in a way that made the cat underneath his claws shudder in his grasp.

"Oh no," said the jagged voice, "You're coming with us." Hushpad had time only to gasp before with a strike of an inky paw the world passed into unconsciousness.

* * *

The light figure of Pouncequick quivering at his side, the stump on his hindquarters wiggling as the imaginary tail curled and lashed, Tailchaser crept forward. Pawstep by pawstep he drew closer, silent, until one ginger paw settled down over an unseen twig. The _snap_ sent the mouse running, and Tailchaser desperately lunged and fell flat. Burning with embarrassment, the tomcat pulled himself up only to see Pounce straighten back up with the mouse in his jaws.

"I see you're living up to your face name, Pounce!" the orange tomcat mewed, putting his own embarrassment aside. A soft pawstep and a brush of whiskers signaled the appearance of Firsa Roofshadow behind him. She, Fritti was glad to notice, too had caught nothing. Her green eyes gleamed with hidden amusement as she meowed, "I think it's time he became a hunter." Pouncequick swelled with the praise.

"We can all share it," he pointed out quickly, flicking his ears with pride. "Do you really think so, Shadow?"

Fritti purred as she nodded, twitching a whisker as if to say _Of course._ The ginger tom added, "I think so too, really—you've been through more than half the hunters in the Clan!" Pouncequick looked embarrassed and passed over his mouse. They ate quietly, all in their own thoughts.

"Tailchaser," Roofshadow asked him later when Pouncequick had capered off to play, "If Pounce _was_ to become a full hunter, where would we have to go?" Fritti had thought for a moment and mewed, "Probably back home. To the Meeting Wall Clan. It is a strange journey, but I think I can remember the way."

She nodded, briskly and firmly, as if it was already decided. "Firsthome second, then—first, Pouncequick." A purr hummed in the air and a matching one leapt from Fritti's throat—he wondered what the cats back at the Clan would say when he returned. Did they already know of his adventures? Would they believe him? He remembered fondly Thinbone, his old best friend—yellow and gray tabby, a good cat. He'd come to wish him good luck as Tailchaser had left on his quest to find Hushpad—a quest that he had completed, and left behind.

As if she was following his thoughts, Firsa mewed, "So how was it?" he sent a blank stare in her direction and she hackled slightly, adding, "Your meeting with Hushpad. You spent several suns with her."

Tailchaser flicked an ear at the slight edge to her tone. "She was living in a house of the M'an—she was glad to see me, as I was her, but she has changed—as have I." Roofshadow nodded, face expressionless again, and Tailchaser felt a brief flutter of anxiety. "If she's with the M'an, at least she is safe then. She was in no great danger. You had feared she was part of the Mound—you must be relieved. As am I."

Fritti took a moment to wonder if there was some kind of hidden double-meaning behind her words when the light fur of Pouncequick reappeared. Fritti had gotten used to the thoughtful, sometimes startling light in the cat's eyes—and the terrible injury Scratchnail had given him. "Pounce," he meowed, "Roofshadow and I have decided we're going to take a quick detour back to the Meeting Wall. See if I can talk old Stretchslow into making you a hunter. Think about all the stories we'll have to tell!"

The younger tom's eyes lit up with excitement, and the two older cats shared an amused glance that quickly became awkward and they looked away.

* * *

"Scratchnail, what are we going to _do_ with her?" Skinwretch was complaining. Scratchnail couldn't reply, his mouth was occupied with lifting the unconscious fela above the water as they swam. "She's only going to be a bother—sneaking off, escaping all the time. She can't even be more than a snack!"

"Don't be a fool, Skinwretch," the Clawguard growled through his mouthful. He'd decided to be the one to carry the prisoner, partly because he had the most experience capturing slaves such as this, and partly because he feared the Toothguard's many teeth might draw blood in Skinwretch's mouth and the creature would lose control and eat her. And that was not what he wanted—Scratchnail didn't just want Tailchaser's death. It swum deliciously before his eyes—_"Kill me, not Hushpad! Please, kill me!"_ he wanted the cat to beg, and then he would oblige the tom's request—but not before he slit his lover's throat.

"Trust me, she will not run," Scratchnail mumbled through her fur as he dropped her on the dripping bank. The water shed from Skinwretch's furless frame as he turned his wide nostrils disgustedly on the tabby fela. The black animal continued, "I have carried many prisoners, when we still lived in the mound—and even if she does run, we are faster than she is, and your nose will pick her out wherever she tries to hide. And she is not that smart, anyway."

He explained to Skinwretch the beauty of his plan, but the naked creature seemed uncertain still. "Are you sure Tailchaser will care so much about this little thing?" he nudged the limp body with a toe scornfully. Scratchnail assured him fervently that he was sure. It would be a trouble, obviously, but well worth it.

Skinwretch bared his teeth in a grimace. "Very well then," the Toothguard hissed, "She will come, then. But if we cannot find food, she will have to sacrifice that pretty tail. Or maybe a pretty leg." His laughter filled the black tom with uncertainty as he slung the limp body over a shoulder and they began to run.

**Read and review, please, if you can, lol. I'll even give you a piece of the pie I just made. Pear and Ginger, DAAANG. It's a good combo :) yeah, thanks and such.**


	5. hazard

**Well Harar again... xD looks like you thought I'd given up, huh? Wrong. I never give up. Especially when I've gone through all the trouble of making an outline and writing several chapters. xD I am going to finish this story so don't even bother worrying about it- just make sure you check back every day for what may very well be the next twenty years because I am NOT letting this die. Lol. In any case! It's been so long I've completely forgotten my reviews, so I won't bother replying to them- just know I'm really happy because of those who did. Thanks! Here it is - likely I'll write more soon.**

Chapter Five - hazard

"Ow!" Scratchnail's huge, heavy paw cuffed the striped fela and she tumbled sideways and stood back up. Those mild eyes were surprisingly resentful, and the Clawguard found himself even more distrustful of them. He was slowly beginning to regret bringing Hushpad along—for one thing, she didn't act like a normal prisoner. Hundreds of slaves Scratchnail had dragged in—some struggled, some bit, and those were quickly broken. Most just stumbled along in silent, blind terror. Hushpad… was different.

She walked straight and proud as an arrow at Skinwretch's side—that long, slender tail twitching back and forth as she bravely tried to keep up with the monstrous pace both creatures held. She had grown plump from her time with the Big Ones, but she slimmed down remarkably quickly, especially seeing how she refused to eat what Scratchnail offered her. For one, she hadn't wanted to eat Huff-So-Gruff, who Scratchnail had kindly asked Skinwretch to bring along for a snack. He'd tried chasing down a kitten, one which would have been a tiny morsel in either of the creatures' bellies, and she'd been so horrified she begged Scratchnail to let it go immediately.

He had, of course, but only because it would have been next-to-worthless to either of the creatures. It would have been a nice big meal for Hushpad… but oh, right—she probably wouldn't want to eat a baby any more than he would have liked to eat a young Claw. That made sense. He rather wished he hadn't caught it, now—he'd been surprisingly dull there. Not only did she not seem upset at all about where they were going, even after Scratchnail gave in and explained his entire plan to her (mainly out of exasperation because of her disgustingly sunny attitude.)

Scratchnail simply didn't understand her- his yellow eyes watched her carefully, narrowed, as she struggled to keep up with the amazing pace the two great monsters could hold up. He didn't understand how she could show such little fear- she still reeked of it, of course, he could smell it as well as Skinwretch surely could- but he was used to far more. Especially from the prisoners who knew what was coming. She actually seemed rather relieved to be back in the open after the first couple of days_._ It was confusing him greatly—he supposed he shouldn't have explained he couldn't kill her yet. It would have been nice to maim her, just a little, but she was all movement and grace and he had no idea where to start. _Not the faintest clue where to start..._

"Scratchnail," Skinwretch hissed softly at his side. Scratchnail turned an absentminded yellow gaze away from the trotting fela and glanced at his partner. With one cupped, batlike ear the Toothguard indicated Hushpad. "Scratchnail, my friend, I have a ssneaking suspicion…" With a warning touch of a dark tail-tip the Claw indicated she was watching. When she looked away again, Skinwretch continued, quieter.

"I think she may try to escape tonight. As you said, she is a little more clever than she seems—and I can smell her resolve. She is not the lighthearted soul she appears." Scratchnail blinked with surprise and scowled. "Keep an ear on her, then, blind worm. I won't be surprised." He'd vowed he wouldn't be surprised. He was ready for anything. That was why it was so surprising that even now there was nothing.

The leathery hide of Skinwretch suddenly prickled and he stopped, straightening up. The Toothguard rounded around a small clump of boulders and crouched, inserting a wrinkled paw into the mass. After a moment, dangling from the tinest claw on his naked paw, Skinwretch brought out a wood mouse. Without giving it a second sniff, the Tooth flicked it at Hushpad, who was watching with surprise. She stared at it blankly as the broken body landed at her paws, then looked up slowly, fearfully.

"Eat up, you'll need it. I, unlike my companion, am aware what the sun-creatures must live on—though it is little more than grubs to us." Scratchnail scowled and cuffed Skinwretch on the side of the head. They looked back up to see Hushpad sneezing with laughter, mouse still untouched.

"_What?" _Scratchnail snarled, fur bristling. She grinned, flicking her tail, and settled down to tuck into the meal she surely must be dying to eat. "Oh, nothing," the cat mewed timidly with a small smile, "Just you two."

Of course, Scratchnail had no idea what she meant, and resented it heavily with his irritated silence. He scratched absentmindedly at his sickly-spotted belly as he glowered at her. She coolly ignored him and was wolfing down the morsel, giving up all pretense of any kind of neatness. He heard Skinwretch laugh unkindly when she tried to swallow too much and choked on it in her eagerness, but Scratchnail merely watched with his narrow eyes until she was done. The harsh, gleaming light behind them was eerie, especially in the state of twilight the cats of deep earth ran through.

She did not thank them—and they expected none. Even he- Scratchnail of the Clawguard- knew she had every right to be ungrateful. Though he HAD let her live. They simply went on along their way. They were silent for a time until out of the corner of one eye the creature saw his friend falter. The rasping, broken growl of his voice cut through the air as he snapped, "Halt, scum!" Skinwretch had lifted his head and was breathing in deeply, indicating some kind of change. Hushpad drifted to a stop in a most unsatisfactory way and wandered back.

"What's the matter?" she asked, "Has he got a nosebleed?" Scratchnail snarled wordlessly at her and started to swipe her aside with a giant paw. She cringed and looked up at him again through blue eyes that were scrunched up with anticipation of the blow. His paws were heavy, powerful, and the bloodred talons were nothing to be ignored. She _knew_ he was looking for any excuse to and found utter delight in hurting her—yet Scratchnail suddenly found himself unwilling to strike her and took his paw away with a disgusted hiss. "Filthy sun-worm," he muttered in his deep, ragged growl. "Keep your tongue in check." He turned his eyes back to his naked companion, concerned.

"The windsss have changed, my friend," came in a hiss from the Toothguard's jagged maw, "And not, I think, in our favor. His trail changes—and they are heading through the forest of the Thanes. We have been wasting our time. He has rejoined his friends as well." Scratchnail's twin hiss of dismay was followed quickly by his demand, "Blind fool- he's not alone anymore? What friends?" The furless animal had begun to pace, hissing in distaste. "The two who were brought into the Mound along with him. He seems to have been heading this direction only to rejoin them..."

The creature let out a roar and slammed both of his paws on the ground in frustration. "_I was the one who caught them!" _he roared, furious, "I tracked and found them myself- and I thought I'd killed that worthless little white cat." Something pulsed in his gaze as he demanded in a harsh whisper, "You tell me we've been going the wrong WAY?" The shimmering layer of molten color behind those yellow eyes was dangerous. The furless construct gagged in his effort to speak, "No, and yes—we've been going the same way as the worm, but he is going a different direction now! Away from the mountains!"

A slight gasp from the small silver fela who was Hushpad caught both their attentions. The large, batlike ears of the Tooth oriented on her as he turned his blind face and his scarred nose towards the she-cat. Scratchnail had heard it as well and with a growl he advanced on her. At last something like proper terror entered her expression and she turned to flee, perhaps with instinct. Final satisfaction entered the Claw as he reached out and drew her back in a tumble of fur and grass. He held her down with one giant paw as he purred in a grating, harsh tone, "You know where they're going, don't you, runtlet?" Jaw firming with determination and lifting her chin slightly from where she lay pinned, Hushpad did not answer—answer enough.

A hiss from behind him made the black animal loosen slightly his grip as Skinwretch slipped around him, lashing his cord of a tail. "Then she knowss we have been going in the wrong direction ass well!" With a growl Scratchnail pressed harder, the she-cat's eyes widening with her terror. "SCUM!" he roared, furious and triumphant, "So THIS is why you've been so pleased with yourself! Where are they going?"

A croak escaped the fela's mouth, "Not… telling…" Scratchnail nearly shook her in his anger, "You WILL tell, or you'll DIE!" he nearly shrieked. Clawing at the paw which held her throat Hushpad meowed something desperate like, "You… need… me." Skinwretch nipped in here. "Not nescessarily in one piecsse," the cat hissed slyly. Choking, Hushpad meowed desperately, "Clan… home…"

Disgusted, the twisted being flung her away. He heard the soft thud of her body as it impacted and bounced on the ground. "May the Boneguard eat your eyes," he grated as she stood, wobbly. "Let's go, Skinwretch. You're coming too, sun-worm—Tailchaser will love to see you before I kill him. And all the rest of your little Clan as well."

"He meanss he'll kill them too," Skinwretch clarified helpfully, "Not that they'll be glad to ssee you. Though that's possssible too."

*** * *** _I've noticed in my other chapters there seems to be no difference when I change POV- stupid fanfiction gets rid of my stars xP._

"Look, Roofshadow! Harar, there it is!" Pounce bounded ahead, creamy pelt nearly on end with excitement. "We're almost there!"

They'd made better time than expected—now that they were not delayed by groups of Firstwalkers and not following the deranged trail of Eatbugs—Tailchaser remembered abruptly with awe as the mud had fallen away from the cat's fur where they'd crouched in the niche together. How beneath the seemingly impenetrable layer of filth the cat's fur was black—black, with paws as brilliant red as Fritti himself…

He wondered if Lord Firefoot was lending energy to their paws, adding time to their journey. Or perhaps it was Whitewind, who Tailchaser himself suspected had contacted Pouncequick in his small coma. In any case—sooner than the three would have hoped, they were there. _Or perhaps it is not _anyone _driving us on—perhaps time has merely flown, spending time with those two._

Pounce's own enthusiasm was catching, and the small ginger cat found himself pressing on as well, feeling nearly as eager to come home and see all his old Clan-mates, his friends. Thinbone, in particular.

He wondered if he would have to explain to the Meeting Wall Clan what had happened to those who had been vanishing—could the news have traveled this far? Certainly, especially with all the surprising contacts old Stretchslow had across the leagues. Fritti wondered not for the first time what the elderly feline had once been…

"Tailchaser! Pouncequick," the slender she-cat called, gasping and sneezing with laughter. Fritti turned his head back inquisitively to see her struggling to keep up, as both had broken into a run. With a loud meow of embarrassment he slowed his pace, and he caught Pouncequick with a paw and sent him tumbling, laughing as well.

While they stood, waiting for the creamy little cat to jump back up, Tailchaser and Roofshadow shared a quick, amused glance—mingled with discomfiture on Fritti's side. The glance became deeper, longer, and quickly the shadowy fela turned her head away again.

"I wonder who we'll see first!" Pouncequick mewed enthusiastically, falling into step at the slower pace. "I wonder if all my friends are hunters now," he mused, suddenly unhappy. Fritti snorted and nudged him with the tip of his tail. "If they are, they should think again," he purred, "You've done more things than many cats do in a lifetime."

"Absolutely," Firsa backed him up firmly. Tailchaser gave her a grateful twitch of the whiskers as, confidence renewed, Pouncequick bounded ahead again.

For a time, through the small forest where first the monsters had appeared and frightened Pouncequick into a fox's den, they moved in silence. Gradually, a strange stillness to the air overcame them, and Fritti noticed it with puzzlement. Finally, Roofshadow drifted closer to him and meowed in an undertone, "Fritti, it is not my wish to worry you… but there is a cat following us."

The orange tom turned, flattening his ears, and spun around. There was a rustle as whoever-it-was froze. "Come out," the orange cat meowed, "I don't mean any harm."

"Who are you?" demanded a voice that tickled at Fritti's memories. Blinking, a little disconcerted, Tailchaser meowed in a puzzled way, "I am called Tailchaser."

"_Tailchaser?"_ It sounded stunned, and suspicious. "No, but—Merclar's Eye, there it is! The star on your brow, clear as day!" the yowl came, shocked. "Tailchaser, where have you been?"

Coming bursting out of the brush with an explosion of yellow-and-gray tabby fur, Thinbone tackled his old playmate and with a mew of astonishment and pleasure the two rolled over and over in delight. "Thinbone!" Fritti mewed, "N're'fa'o, heart-friend! I should have _recognized_ your scent! Why didn't I?"

"I should have recognized YOURS, my friend!" the spangled tomcat panted, sitting up with his ears out of order. Swiping his tongue across one gray paw he groomed at it. "Your scent has changed, hunter—you must have followed fine cats and been far places!" Thinbone's gleaming eyes moved to Pouncequick, who had come bounding back. "Harar, and is that young Pouncequick I see? It has been too long! By Whitewind's claw, what happened to your tail?"

Pouncequick's gleeful expression melted, and for a moment Fritti could almost see that tail swish in irritation. "I was fighting a… well, a monster. Not quite a cat at all." Thinbone twitched his nose in admiration as Pounce went on, "I nearly died—Tailchaser saved me." He shot the ginger cat a grateful look and the orange hunter lowered his star-marked brow modestly.

"Did you kill it?" Thinbone asked, trotting in a circle around the three, looking intrested. They found themselves turning in a circle as well, just to watch him- even Firsa, who had a wary look to her face. "He is dead," Fritti agreed. "Good!" the yellow-and-gray cat meowed fervently. "You'll have to introduce me to the fela, I'm afraid." He winked at the dark, slender cat. "I take it you never found Hushpad?" his voice was sympathetic.

"I found her," Fritti said, choosing his words carefully. He knew this was a somewhat risky subject—he had the sense Roofshadow didn't care too much for his old silver playmate. "She was happy where she was, though. And this is Roofshadow."

"Pleased to welcome you to the Meeting Wall Clan, Roofshadow," Thinbone mewed, eyes gleaming. His brindled tail swished in pleasure. "You'll have to tell me about all your adventures, Fritti!"

"Well," the ginger cat said darkly, "We found out where all the cats were disappearing to."

"Oh, is that all?" Thinbone asked, something darkening on his face. "We found that out too. There's a Clan Meeting tonight at the Wall about what to do about it." Tailchaser found himself somewhat taken aback. "You mean you know about the Mound?"

Thinbone blinked, baffled, and shook his head. The other three all shared a glance. "Then," Roofshadow meowed, carefully, "Who has been taking the cats away?"

The tomcat blinked, puzzled, and said as if it were obvious, "The M'an, of course. They've been doing it for moons. Half the Clan is gone and the other half in hiding."

His blank, confused face tilted as he cocked his head, watching with perplexity Tailchaser and Pouncequick's equal recoils of horror and confusion.

**Oho! What now? Evidently while Fritti and his friends were running around the countryside banishing cat-demons and destroying gods something very different has been going on back at the Meeting Wall Clan! Stick around for my next update- whenever it is xD because it will surely come - and I suppose you'll find out, eh?**


	6. arrival

**Well look who it is! Me again, of course, with another random update. Unfortunately this chapter is nearly all dialogue- basically nothing happens in it. However, conveniently, it sets the scale nicely for the rest of the story, which will (with a buttload of luck) be finished soon. Yay hahaha. Don't count on it, but, as I said- at some point it WILL be finished. Meanwhile, all you random people browsing for Tailchaser fic (and not finding it haha) here's for you lol. Whoosh. **

Chapter Six – arrival

"I'm _sorry,_" Thinbone snapped as he led them at a brisk pace through the forest, "How was I supposed to know you didn't know, anyway? I'm sorry to hear about Jumptall and the others—we all thought the two-legs had taken them as well." Fritti and Pouncequick had been doing some quick explaining on the way—Roofshadow seemed to be laying low and speaking only when something vital was passed over.

"How are they catching us?" the small ginger tom demanded, ears laid back flat to his skull with the weight of his stress. "The Folk are and have always been too quick for the M'an's clumsy hands."

"They have driven off much of the prey, so that the hunters have little to catch," Thinbone was meowing darkly as they steered finally past a clearing. A scattered arc of their wooden dens could be seen hazily across the field. Parting the flaxen stems with his muzzle the gray-and-yellow feline stepped through without hesitation. Slightly more wary, the three followed.

Thinbone turned, "This is where many of us have been hiding out—there are dogs in the forest, Tailchaser, and traps of the M'an." Where once a cat might have shuddered Fritti almost flicked an ear—compared to the Clawguard, dogs were nothing. He'd seen the group of coaly animals feasting on one. And he still failed to see how a trap made by those flimsy paws could be anything of menace to his Clan.

"Cats have been disappearing since I was born, though, surely-" Tailchaser objected, swishing his gingery tail. Thinbone cut him off, "—all work of the M'an. We've been puzzled by the way cats suddenly disappear, almost in their sleep. Yes, recently some of it has been the red-clawed monsters you call dwellers of your Mound—who as you tell me, I am relieved to know, are dead. However… the m'an, above all, have taken their toll on our Clan."

Roofshadow nodded, interjecting smoothly with concern in her tone, "Where do they go? Are they taken as prey?"

"No," Thinbone said, but it was not reassuring in tone. "No, and I don't know, Roofshadow. Away. Perhaps at the Meeting Wall tonight some cat will know."

Fritti had remembered abruptly when his own mother had disappeared—she and all his siblings, leaving him alone and bewildered. He knew, truly, that not all of the m'an were bad. There had been those who had fed him in his younger days before he had left home after Hushpad. And then there had been those who looked after the silver fela herself. She seemed almost like a dream, a hazy memory, now…

But now, perhaps, for the first time in cycles of the moon, a tiny hope was fluttering in his heart—could then, perhaps, his mother still be alive? His family still live, imprisoned by the two-legs? Would they want to come back, if he went out after them like he had his old heart-friend, or would they be plump and content and refuse to come home?

Thinbone must have seen that gleam in his eyes because, tactfully after a moment, he mewed, "Tailchaser, heart-friend—your family was taken moons and moons ago. We must speak to the Elders and they will figure out something to do. Do not take this on your own heart."

Firsa had turned those eyes to him with sympathy and understanding, though her face was still cool—he wondered unhappily if perhaps she was angry at how little he seemed to be speaking with her. But he was so glad to be home. And since Fritti was occupied with Thinbone, Pouncequick had been altogether ready to strike up more conversation with her.

In a murmur behind his back the two chatted, and a small spark of jealousy plagued the orange tomcat for a moment. It should not have been there, of course—Roofshadow had originally been Pouncequick's friend in the first place, and the easy way they spoke to one another was granted. Really.

The cat turned his pale brow back to his friend, watching him with something like amusement hidden in his whiskers. Twitching an ear, Fritti lashed his tail for a moment and meowed determinedly, "All right, Thinbone. At the meeting tonight, we shall see."

"Very well," the tabby purred, nosing the reddish hunter's shoulder, "It is good to have you back. Even in times such as these."

They were drawing close. So close, Skinwretch said, that at times his nose felt nearly inflamed from how strong and clear the scent was growing. Scratchnail could not say the same, but he too was excited. It pulsed in the air in dark clouds around the two creatures, prowling through the dusk. Before them, almost as if they were herding her, a skinny silver fela stumbled. It was an odd sight, through the fog—odder still that when the glimmering arc of Meerclar's eye began to open across the mountains the three did not stop—did not falter before they pressed into the small forest where indeed Fritti and his friends had passed less than a day ago.

"We have made good time, friend," Skinwretch hissed pleased, as he hurried along. His grotesque wound had finally faded as the strength Hearteater had built into his subjects took care of the maiming.

"Good time indeed, worm," the Clawguard agreed in a heavy rasp. He didn't take his lamp-yellow eyes away from the she-cat before him, however—he no longer dared. Since they'd corrected their course and strengthened their pace, Hushpad had given up pretending to come along willingly and had been streaking off at every opportunity.

"I'm tired," the thin cat complained, swishing a long, striped tail that caught Scratchnail's attention. He watched it wind, curl, before he took his gaze away and bared his teeth.

"Correction," Skinwretch added, "We made good time for having been misled and hampered down chasing after the stupid cat you had to bring along, Scratchnail." The pantherlike being leered at the pretty little fela, but something twanged at him inside.

"Well, she made good pace… for a sun-rat." Hushpad lifted her chin as the coaly beast took his eyes off her and looked back towards his blind companion. "The daylight shall grow, soon, scum—do we dare halt? We are close enough now that she may dash off and warn little Starface."

"I don't think we do dare, Scratchnail," the Toothguard said, troubled, "We would do best to disable her before we took any kind of rest." The furless face turned towards where the gray cat trembled and the creature bared his rows of teeth. Claws were sliding out of the great, wrinkled folds of skin around his toes.

"Skinwretch, there is no need," the Claw snapped, slightly troubled by the way his partner was acting, "Stop that." Skinwretch faltered, his grimace becoming one of puzzlement as he turned his face up to the dark animal's. "Ssscratchnail," he said darkly, "I am very tired. We have been tracking Tailchaser and running after this foolish slave's escape attempts for days." He spoke slowly, as if the chieftain was particularly slow and there should be no reason why the spot-bellied animal would stop him

Hushpad had unconsciously slid behind Scratchnail for shelter, and the bristling creature bared his own teeth. Not that Skinwretch would be able to tell. "NO," he snarled, "If you are hungry, go and hunt. I will watch the prisoner." Skinwretch's jaw dropped with astonishment as the creature's flaring, batlike face writhed in astonishment and indignation.

"You cannot be seriouss, my friend," the animal hissed, lashing the ratlike tail, "We must not quarrel like this! Our revenge has to be unified, after all." Scratchnail's tail had brushed out and he was uncommonly aware of the shaking fela behind him. Her fur brushed his and he had to work not to kick out reflexively. This, as they all knew, unlike the frequent bickering the two constantly were doing, was a _real_ fight.

"Then do what I say," the black animal snapped, hackling. Bloodred claws dug slightly into the ground, "Go hunt, I will stay here. And as for our revenge, she is part of it, and I do not want her harmed before then!" His blazing eyes by the Toothguard went unseen, but his anger was not, and bitterly the other animal bowed his head in acceptance.

"Very well," but Skinwretch's voice was nearly mocking, "I will be back. Enjoy your tender moment." His sneer was the last sound before he slithered off into the brush. Scratchnail was left behind feeling suddenly troubled, conflicted, and left in the company of Hushpad who had finally edged back out from behind him.

Concerned, he glanced at her to see her fur lying finally flat. The Tooth hadn't touched her, but she'd known as well as he had that the threat was real. He wondered suddenly if his statement about wanting her whole was entirely true—in pieces was as good as any, to horrify Tailchaser.

"Th… thank you," Hushpad was whispering. Whipping around and glaring at her, he was annoyed to see she didn't shrink back from his yellow eyes. "Don't thank me," he growled, "You're only here because I want your little mate to see you die himself."

She bristled, and Scratchnail was surprised as she snapped, "Fine! If THAT'S why I'm along! And he's NOT my mate—Tailchaser is my friend, as Skinwretch is yours—no more. Why do you hate him so much, Scratchnail?"

The Clawguard snarled and fixed her eyes with his own firey orbs. "Because he destroyed me, scum!" He tore at the earth with those great claws, "Because he took everything away from me—my rank, my sanity, even my home!" Something like despair was suddenly clenching at the massive animal as he half-crouched. "Skinwretch and I are the only two left of our kind—he's killed my race as well. Extinct," he said bitterly.

His head rose for a moment to see the silver fela's eyes wide, looking at him, and there was something like understanding and shock on her face before it closed again, looking defiant. "And you think that if you kill me in front of Tailchaser before you kill him yourself that will get you what you want, Scratchnail?" the fela demanded, "Why don't you find _new_ friends, find a _new_ home? The light doesn't burn your eyes anymore. And you're nearly a cat like any other. Hearteater was _still_ one of the Firstborn—you're still one of Meerclar's children!"

A snarling, guttural laugh of echoing despair left his hoarse mouth at the thought. "Look at me, you fool slave! I am not one of your Folk—I was created, born to kill." His unsheathed claws he stretched out towards her and she cringed back—but he merely flexed them in front of her, bitter and wild. "These are meant for BLOOD," he cried, "That's why they're red. See? Or are you as blind as Skinwretch?"

"Skinwretch may not be able to see, but at least HE can feel!" she shouted, still quailing back at his fury, "Look at him! You're his best friend, Scratchnail, and you treat him like dirt—yet he still likes you!"

"Nobody likes me," Scratchnail growled bitterly, and with a blow of his paw he knocked her onto her back. Her defiant, wild eyes shone up as he stood above her, the inky feline's powerful legs straddling above each side of her as she snapped, "Everyone has a choice, Scratchnail—you have no master now. You don't have to do ANYTHING you don't want to."

"I DO WANT TO!" he nearly shrieked, and then a hiss of amusement curled like a wisp of smoke out of the brush. The wrinkled, furless pelt of Skinwretch slid out, the body of a long-nosed hound towed behind him.

"Well, well, well," the furless creature purred, seething with amusement. The carcass had already been neatly half-stripped of meat and he seemed to be in a better mood. He sat down and smirked neatly. "I do believe I sssee what's going on here," the Toothguard meowed, quite smug.

"That makes one of us," Scratchnail retorted, glowering at the she-cat. He realized abruptly where he was and a surge of embarrassment colored his dark ears as he self-consciously stepped away from the fela. She glowered back at him as she pulled herself up. Skinwretch merely smirked again and did not reply.

Scratchnail occupied himself eating the meat, trying not to think about everything Hushpad had been shouting at him. What did she mean? What did _Skinwretch_ mean? To distract himself, he asked disgruntledly, "Where did you catch the dog?"

The blind animal scratched at one giant ear with a back leg. "It was ssstrange, actually," he said, a bit puzzled, "There were several in the forest. At first when it saw me I think it thought I was one of the sun-rats." He grinned that fearsome smile. "That was a mistake. The woods reek of the m'an. I was going to try for something smaller— one of her Folk would have been plenty for us—but there was no sight or sound of any, anywhere."

"Mmmph," Scratchnail grumbled, and happened to glance over at Hushpad. She had a puzzled, odd expression on her face as she watched him—he sent a glare her way and snapped exasperatedly, "Oh, can't you go catch some grubs or something?" She narrowed her eyes and whatever searching, open expression that had colored her gaze for a moment vanished.

"Why don't you go with her, Scratchnail?" the furless Toothguard slipped in, slyly, "You can continue your… conversation?" He gave Skinwretch a fuming look and gruffly snapped, maybe a little too quickly, "Never mind, let's go on."

That smirk on his friend's face didn't leave it even after they'd left the corpse far behind and walked among the trees. The ordinary chattering of the Rikachik was strangely extinguished where they passed as bright eyes wide with shock and fear watched from high in the treetops.

**Hmmm. It occurred to me this is a little like Warriors. However, when I thought of it, I totally was not thinking of Warriors. Maybe it was subconscious- maybe Warriors just stole my idea xD who knows! In any case, keep around for the next chapter... likely it'll come soon. xD  
**


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